


Autumn Brings New Life

by hideflen



Category: Temeraire - Fandom
Genre: Gen, temeraire2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 04:21:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4005706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hideflen/pseuds/hideflen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Temeraire2015 Promptfest, this being prompt #16. This is for Amarguerite!</p><p>In the Autumn of 1808, Lien looks back at what has happened to her, the unluckiest of dragons, in the past two years. But was it only her situation that branded her unlucky?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Autumn Brings New Life

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Temeraire2015 Promptfest, this being prompt #16. (I do not currently know who this gift is for ;_; I am very sorry but will dedicate it to you asap.)
> 
> I'm also a huge nerd about the Palace of Versailles; hit me up if anyone wants to hear some inane headcanons about which buildings Napoleon and Lien would renovate and how to make them dragon-friendly (Hall of Mirrors anyone? yeah).

1808, Versailles

It was Autumn in Paris. Lung Tien Lien sat leonine in the pleasantly warm Marble Courtyard, watching the sun sink over the canals and Fountain of Latona. The main palace had been renovated to accommodate not just herself, but the other draconic members of Napoleon’s new court. The fireplaces which heated the rooms and halls of the palace now also heated water which flowed undernearth several courtyards during colder months, for the dragons’ comfort. The system had just had a test run during the outdoor ball held in the spectacular pink and white Marble Courtyard and palace gardens to celebrate Lien’s second anniversary of arriving in France. 

The festivities had been scaled appropriately for both human and dragon guests, and despite the hardships and trials of their ongoing campaign, the food and entertainment were of such a caliber that their magnificence equaled the splendid, gilded backdrop. The palace chefs had enquired of her if she would like any of her favorite Chinese dishes to be served at the feast; Lien had demurred, and instead asked them to prepare only French classics, scaled up for dragons—she had found that they still needed a nudge or two to try cooked food. 

She had grown up in what she still considered to be, to a point, the most civilized court in the world. However, Lien had to admit to herself that among Western nations, France was the most skilled in artisan crafts and in cooking; and thanks to Napoleon and her guidance, the most agile militarily as well. She had been working hard with this Emperor whom she initially considered to be something of a barbarian to instill right ways of thinking and sensible practices for future generations.

As the ruby-red sun reflected off the gems set in her gauntlets, Lien stretched out her pink-dappled wings and gracefully launched herself into the air. She flew north-west toward the Trianons; she had a call to pay. The last rays of sunlight reflecting off the white walls of the Petit Trianon echoed her wings briefly, then faded to a more lavender hue as darkness stole across the grounds. She padded over to the small pleasure palace, and peered inside.

“Madame Lien!” a draconic voice cried, and a dark blue dragon slithered out the door. She was still small enough to fit into the palace, which was scheduled for renovation next; Genevieve the Fleur-de-Nuit was but four weeks old. Ambassador Jean-Claude De Guignes walked out behind her, a hooded lantern in his hand. Genevieve gave Lien a short bow. “Madame Lien, in my lessons today Jean-Claude told me that you had won honors for your scholarship when you were growing up in China. How many books did you read to achieve that?”

Lien chuckled. Nearly a year ago, Napoleon had told her that he planned to honor De Guignes’ service to the empire by bestowing upon him a dragon and an endowment for its care. She had been very interested and invested in this choice; all her current situation hinged upon her having listened to De Guignes that terrible last week in the Forbidden City. It had been her decision in the end, but his encouraging words had sounded so appealing—to be welcomed in France; to join the court of their Emperor; these lures had been well-intentioned and she considered these her due. His assurance that French dragons would instinctually respect her was a foreign concept, but it had been the most pleasant surprise. Journeying across the western Chinese provices, the Ottoman Empire, and their detour in Istanbul had brought them together as, dare she say it, friends. Therefore when Napoleon had asked her opinion on what sort of dragon would suit De Guignes, Lien had taken the project under her control. Thanks to her very broad education, she had already made some improvements to the Imperial breeding program: the Fleur-de-Nuits had been selecting for slightly better day-vision, and she chose for De Guignes an egg whose sire and dam were the most intelligent and well-rounded. As well as the program of literature which she had started all French dragons on, she had encouraged De Guignes to read the Analects and other Chinese classics to the egg, as well as anything from his extensive library.

“Dear Genevieve, I read every book I could get my talons on. You have heard some of them already.” Lien turned to regard De Guignes. “Ambassador, what has she been studying lately?”

“Madame, we have been in fact been reading Greek and Roman myths, as the garden statues have caught her eye.” De Guignes waved his lantern in the direction of the main garden. “She noted some fascinating parallels between Hua Mulan and Athéne.”

Lien nodded approvingly. “Would you do me the favor to bring me the book you have lately read?” De Guignes gave her a short bow, knowing that this imperious dragon was just as interested in his dragon’s education as he was.

As De Guignes returned into the Petit Trianon, Genevieve curled up comfortably. “All the statues in the fountains are the same beautiful porcelain color as you are, Madame,” Genevieve said with a small sigh. “But nothing matches a dark blue dragon. Only Hades’ shades do, I suppose.”

Lien gave a small start. There were two aspects of France which she was still getting used to: one was the general nervousness with which most humans treated dragons, but with her reforms that common habit was slowly wearing away; the second was that although humans and dragons did find her color unusual, no one had voiced any concern about it. Although it had been two years since she had left China, her conception that her deviation from her kind’s normal dark coloration was some sort of ill-fated sign was hard to shake. To hear a dark-colored dragon express dissatisfaction about her coloration was something Lien had never experienced.

She nosed at her protegé. “Genevieve, look up.” Genevieve looked up, her lumious eyes meeting Lien’s red ones. Lien smiled, and nudged the young dragon’s head skyward. “The heavens match you. I always thought myself unusual because my kind are named for the heavens—I am a Celestial dragon. But all my relations match the sky. You are a flower of night; is that not poetic?”

Genevieve very cautiously nosed at Lien in turn. “It is very much so. And how could you be unusual? You match the queen of the heavens: the moon!” She pointed at the waning crescent near the western horizon.

De Guignes joined them, a book of myths in Latin in his hand. “I see that you are working on your ambassadorial charm, as well!” he chuckled. “My dear, do you tell Madame Lien about the tales we discussed this morning.”

The dragonet reviewed several myths, and at Lien’s prompting recited a poem in Chinese. Satisfied with her protegé’s work, Lien nodded. “Well put, Genevieve. Later this evening I shall return to show you some constellations which are relevant to the myths you just learned.”

 

She said her goodnights, and made her way to the Grand Trianon. A light was on in the study next to the hall which was retrofitted to be her personal pavilion; she peered in. Napoleon looked up, and stood up from the table at which he had been sitting and writing. Coming outside to join her, he gestured at the twinkling stars and shimmering moon overhead. The air was crisp, but the courtyard outside was heated from below like the main palace. “It is a beautiful night, is it not?”

Lien nodded. “De Guignes’ dragonet’s studies are coming along well. I hope for her to be as much of an example to our dragons as the man is to your other ambassadors.”

Napoleon patted her on the talon. “She will do well, under your tutelage. You yourself are the best example the dragons of France could have.”

Lien shifted so that Napoleon could climb onto her forelimb. “My relationship with my homeland is not something to be emulated,” she said quietly.

She felt Napoleon shake his head. “No, no, but how could someone blossom under such superstition?”

She was silent for a long moment. “One must strive to improve where one can.”

Napoleon patted her again. “I have striven to improve France these dozen years. Your influence throughout the last two has bettered so many aspects of our nation! Do not fret, my friend.”

Lien shifted slightly under him. “I am not fretting. I am actually quite—“ she faltered. “Quite content,” she said slowly. She had never realized exactly what the feeling which had been spreading through her life for the last few weeks had been: it was happiness.

She had not expected to find that here in France. Her decisions to come to France in the first place, to overthrow the British and Ottoman alliance, even to accept a Marshal’s baton had all been motivated by bitterness and a thirst to avenge the senseless murder of her beloved Prince Yongxing and to punish that upstart dragonet Lung Tien Xiang. However it had felt satisfying, in a way, to even make the small progress of implementing changes to the military ranks and breeding programs. And as she had just realized from speaking with a dragonet who was under her especial tutelage, she was truly respected here for her abilities and achievements, not just out of fear or superstition. Here in France, Napoleon and all the opportunities of the burgeoning L’Ancien Regime had given her everything that Yongxing had ever wanted for her.

She took a deep breath, steadying. “I would say, Napoleon, that I am more than content. I am indeed happy.”

Napoleon flashed a smile up at her. “Then I am happy, my friend. What say you to a nightcap? Some tender roast pheasant, or perhaps some chocolate? We have a busy day tomorrow; our new battleships are being put in at Le Havre.” He hopped down from her forelimb and waved her on.

Lien gave a pleased rumble and followed him inside her stately pavilion, feeling that for once the Heavens had smiled upon her with this second chance at ushering in a new dynasty.


End file.
